


Georgie-boy

by oh_johnny



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Hamburg Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_johnny/pseuds/oh_johnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George wants to prove to John that he's a man now. Everyone gets to see it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Georgie-boy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of an old fic which first appeared on the lj comm Beatlesslash.

Dawn was starting to break as the two young men headed home. They’d stayed late at the club after their set was done, John too manic from the prellies to think about sleep and not interested in that night’s selection of strippers; George because, well, because following John around would always be his first choice. As they walked John talked, stream-of-consciousness bullshit mostly, just making noise. Then, somewhere in the midst of it all, George heard this sentence,

“You’re still just a boy but one day soon you’ll be a man and then the fun’ll begin, Georgie-boy.”

“I’m a man now,” he protested.

“Oh aye? When did that happen?”

“Well, I’m 18 now you know, and I’ve been hanging around the same birds you have.”

“Nah. You’re too pretty.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m handsome. Girls are pretty, not me.”

John was silent for a minute, then rounded on George, pushing him back up against the wall of the building they were beside. He looked at him critically for a moment.

“Hmmm. Long eyelashes. Cheekbones that could slice paper. Full mouth. No, definitely pretty. And…”

“And…?”

“Never mind.”

“What?”

“Just…I see what the girls are on about. Completely kissable.”

George blushed then and started to push away from John, but John stopped him, manic energy now completely focused on the young man in front of him. He brushed a hand across George’s face, leaned in and nuzzled his neck, inhaling deeply.

“John? What…?”

“Shhh, George. Hush. Let me do this.”

George leaned back against the wall again, felt John lean into him, felt the heat of the other man’s breath on his neck. His brain wanted to lodge a protest but George didn’t care. All he could do, all he wanted to do, was give in.

John’s mouth moved on George’s neck, his hands moving across his body. Finally his mouth connected with George’s, tongue parting lips, seeking entry. George sighed gently, the sensations making his head swim, pulling John closer.

The kiss became more intense, the hands started to quest for skin, hips started to rock.

Finally, John pulled away, both men gasping for air. He pulled George by the hand, pulled him through the doorway of the building which, George suddenly realized, was the place they were staying this trip. One grotty little room, all of them dossed in together, no privacy. He pulled back against John in protest but John wouldn’t be stopped.

They stumbled into the dark room. John pushed George down onto his bed, the crash of their bodies bringing mumbled protests from the other men.

“Christ, John! Shut up! I’m trying to sleep here.”

“John, what the fuck are you doing? Send the girl home and get some sleep.”

John didn’t answer them, his focus once again on George’s mouth, George’s neck, George’s body. George tried to stay silent, tried not to let on that he wasn’t some bird John had pulled for the night, but when John’s hand rubbed over his crotch he couldn’t help himself. John tried to cover his mouth with his own, tried to stop the escaping groan but it was too late.

“George? John, is that George?”

“Lennon, what the fuck are you doing? Leave the boy alone.”

“Georgie? Do you need help?”

He groaned again, managed to gasp out a strangled “No.”

“George? You don’t have to do this.”

“Shut up Paul. I’m fine. It’s fine. Leave me alone.”

Silence then in the room, except for breathing.

John pulled at George’s clothes, fastened his mouth back on George’s neck, lips and tongue teasing the pale flesh. George groaned again then wrapped his legs around John, pulling him closer. Now it was John’s turn to moan as he felt George’s erection pressed against him through the leather of their pants.

The silence in the rest of the room deepened, each of the other three men imagining John on top of him, George underneath.

John pulled George’s trousers down and off him, pulled away the underwear, freed George’s cock, took a moment to look, to savour. Then his hands and mouth started moving again, down George’s chest, up his thighs, teasing touches, trailing tongue, settling everywhere except his cock.

George, no longer caring about the other men in the room, gasped and moaned, called John’s name, begging him.

“Oh…god…John…please touch me…please John…I don’t…can’t…please John…touch me.”

But John kept away, kept teasing, drawing out the moment, relishing the sound of George begging him.

“John! Dammit…touch me.”

Then, from across the room, “Hang on a minute Georgie. I’ll come touch you, just as soon as I finish touching myself.”

John let out a laugh, George just groaned louder. John doing what he was doing was mind-boggling enough. The thought of John and Stu together was enough to shut down his brain completely.

Finally, John leaned over George’s cock, ran his tongue over the tip, lowered his mouth onto him, taking him in completely. The sensation overwhelmed George, and, hips bucking, he called out John’s name as he came in his mouth.

John moved back up his body, kissed him, then moved away to pull off his own trousers, grab some Vaseline from the night stand. He knelt between George’s legs, grabbed a pillow and shoved it under George’s ass. George wrapped his legs around John, knowing what John had in mind, not sure what he felt but not wanting to stop. John coated his fingers with the Vaseline, leaned down to kiss George again, then gently slid one finger in.

George cried out, tightened, then relaxed into the feeling. With his other hand, John traced patterns on George’s chest and belly, soothing the younger man, willing him to settle. Then he slid in a second finger, and a third. George started to rock on John’s fingers, was aware of becoming hard again, tried and failed to control his breathing.

Then John pulled out his fingers, adjusted their positions slightly, and pressed himself into George. He stilled, waited, studying George to make sure he was all right.

George lay for a moment, adjusting to the fullness of John, becoming aware of the rustling of sheets, the creaking of bedsprings, realizing that the other men in the room were listening, participating, getting off on imagining what was happening.

The thought tripped George over the edge and he tightened his legs around John, pulled him closer, started to move his hips, to rock onto his erection. It was John’s turn to groan, to cry out as he pressed deeper and deeper into George. He wrapped a hand around George’s cock, stroking it in time to his thrusts, the two of them gasping for air, moaning, all thought, all higher brain function, lost to the rhythm of their bodies.

With a final gasping cry George came in John’s hand as John, crying out George’s name at last, came inside him.

They lay, one on top of the other, panting, wiping the sweat out of their eyes, waiting for the earth to stop spinning around them.

Then, from across the room, a murmured, “Well done,” and a slow round of applause.


End file.
